You Get What You Give
by alt-taj
Summary: Based on the starter "Captive Uncertainty" - Oswald/Captive story - starts in media res - Oswald is desperate to win a young girl's affection but pursues her in the worst possible manner.
1. Day 23

**CHAPTER 1: Day 23**

She had worked up the courage to slip a dinner knife under her sleeve. Thankfully Oswald never watched her eat, instead he would send one of his henchmen to provide her meal. Their lecherous stares usually killed her appetite, but she was confident that the missing utensil would go unnoticed. She could barely contain her nerves as she knelt beside the door, trying to listen for any activity on the other side. She had no idea what awaited her, but she was going stir-crazy in the tiny room, willing to try anything to gain access to freedom.

The knife slid between the frame and the lock, she only needed enough force to break the seal. She prayed the noise would fall on deaf ears. She held her breath as the door jerked open. She quickly caught the door handle, holding it with an iron grip, ready to jump back in case one of Oswald's guards was standing watch. She heaved a sigh of relief as the seconds passed without retribution for her hasty lock pick.

She eased herself out of the room and melted into the wall. She found herself at the top of a long staircase, surrounded by a dim lit hallway. The wallpaper was instantly recognizable. She was in Mooney's club. Unbeknownst to her, Oswald's finances had only allowed him to renovate the front half of the lounge. She had to act fast while she had the courage. She crept down the stairs, careful to keep the creeks to a minimum.

It was eerily quiet. Her heart pounded in her ears, but reassured herself that it was a silent tell. With a deep inhale she sprinted into action, racing out of the hallway onto the open dance floor. She had reached the edge when a man appeared from the recesses stopping her cold. He was a good foot taller than her, dressed in a black suit, the light from above beaming over his bald head. It was the same man who had drugged her. His smile was unnerving. His absent eyebrows made the grin seem all the more malicious. "Hi there!" he waved his hand, while reaching out for her with the other. She was determined to get past him by any means necessary. She swung high, distracting him momentarily while she raked her nails across his face. He bellowed, reaching for something behind his back. She sped past him, searching for the door. "OSWALD, INCOMING!" Victor called out to his boss while he wiped the blood from his eyes.

She could see the light streaming in from the street, one more leap and she was home free. Her hope was cut short by a force that wrapped around her legs, pulling her down hard to the floor. She threw her hands around her face to buffer the fall, but was quickly rolled over on her back. She could hardly believe it was Oswald who had taken her down. He was breathing hard, trying to ignore the blistering pain in his knee from the sudden sprint. She struggled under him, still hoping to maneuver out from under him. He grabbed her wrists and heaved himself on top of her chest. The animosity in his eyes made her blood run cold. He was practically foaming with rage: "You really thought you could escape? You ungrateful bitch!" his voice was hoarse and cracked with the expletive. She thrashed against him, but his desire to keep her was stronger than she could possibly imagine.

"VICTOR-" Oswald summoned his hitman, but one look at the gash on his face caused him to reconsider. Victor had smeared the blood down his cheek and was still seething with rage. His gun was cocked, waiting for Oswald's permission to retaliate. "On second thought-" he was beginning to regain his composure, although his voice was still filled with bitter hostility: "Gabriel! Get her cleaned up for dinner...in the back." Her dreams of escape faded as the hefty henchmen slung her over his shoulder. She took solace in his name, and decided it was safer to be with him than the radiant fury named Victor Zsasz.


	2. Family Dinner

**CHAPTER 2: Family Dinner**

It took a few minutes for her eyes to adjust to the new room. Flickers of candle light bathed the walls in dark shadows that made her feel ill at ease. The back room was lavishly decorated despite the sparsity of furniture. A long table with marble accents took up a majority of the space, with mismatched chairs carefully placed along its sides. Her wrists were bound to the arms of her chair; and despite her best efforts to break the restraints, she remained firmly stuck in her place. Behind her she could make out a heavy velvet curtain that separated the room from the rest of the club. She was thankful for the privacy until Victor pulled back the shade to allow her captor a regal entrance. Oswald hobbled along the edge of table, trying to look dignified despite his crippled leg. He took his place at the head of the table, the oversized throne made him seem even more diminutive in stature. Victor remained standing, a little too close to her for comfort. She could feel his eyes boring into her, the tension rising with each passing moment.

Oswald cheerfully started dissecting his entree, his wild hand gestures with the knife read as threatening even from across the room. She could only stare at her plate, a richly prepared piece of yellow tail tantalizing her. Victor must have noticed her hungry gaze as he chuckled underneath his breath. She glanced back at him, feeling more venturesome on an empty stomach. Although he had cleaned up his face, she noticed three deep gashes that started on his temple, curving over his eye and ending on his cheek. She was pleased with her handiwork and couldn't resist taunting him with a quick wink and a silent snarl. Victor pressed his lips together, reaching for his gun. She was fairly certain Oswald wouldn't allow him to kill her. At this point, it was worth the risk just to see the assassin squirm. In a flirtatious tone she mocked: "I like your new beauty marks."

Victor slammed his gun on the table causing her to jump in her seat. He hunched his shoulders at Oswald and through gritted teeth beseeched his boss "Please let me work on her?" She had started to relax back into her seat, reveling in her ability to enrage the revered hitman. Oswald raised his hand, his knuckles were shaking as she started to regret her juvenile taunt. "ENOUGH!" his hand swept across the table, scattering the dishes onto the hardwood floor. Even Victor looked taken aback by this sudden show of aggression.

Oswald rose from the table and began searching for something on the floor. "You know-" his voice contained a hostile edge as he reached for his fallen dinner knife "-I've done my very best to be hospitable" he let the blade drag along the table as he slowly made his way toward her "-but you're not making it easy." He face beheld a pained grimace as he stopped before her. For the first time since she had been in his charge, she felt scared. Oswald wrinkled his nose as he began twisting the knife deep into the table, "There are _worse_ places you could be" he said with a sneer. She didn't know if this was a threat or a promise of what was to come.

Her thought was cut short as Butch hastily slid past the curtain. Oswald adamantly displayed his annoyance with the disruption. His usual calm demeanor was giving way to a curt flourish in his tone - "What is it now?" Butch whispered something to his side, she could only make out a name - 'Gordon'. Apparently it was of dire importance, because his mood shifted considerably to meet the man on the other side of the curtain. Oswald motioned for Victor to keep her quiet as he exited the room.

Oswald tried to put on his best airs of civility as he slinked through the curtain. "Old friend-" he stopped short when he noticed Harvey Bullock standing at Jim's side. His patience was already razor thin, as he tried to appease the pair: "What can I do for you, gentlemen?" Jim looked weary, annoyed at having to come to Oswald for another favor - "We're here about a missing girl." Oswald twitched as he eyed the pair, trying to conceal his guilt. "But...I thought you were with homicide?" He was a master of misdirection but Jim was quick to offer details, eager to end the conversation. "Apparently she has connections to some very important people in Metropolis" he rubbed his temple before continuing "-the commissioner has everyone on this case right now." Oswald nodded sympathetically, privately heaving a sigh of relief that there was no direct evidence for the pair to investigate his domain.

"Mind if we have a look around, junior?" Bullock never passed on the opportunity to shoot off a demeaning remark as he started making his way toward the curtain. Oswald quickly shot back "Wouldn't you be more interested in what's at the bar, Detective?" It was much easier to deter Harvey, his vices made him an easy target. "You know what?" Harvey stared Oswald down before giving him a quick flick on the nose "That's the best idea I've heard all night". While Harvey helped himself to the back of the bar, Jim attempted to offer a minute courtesy to his host. "I'm sorry to have bothered you, but I thought you might have heard something on the street."

Oswald dismissed the apology with the wave of his hand and gave a falsified assurance: "Think nothing of it. I'll be sure to let you know if I hear anything." His saccharine smile served to stifle his own nerves. Jim seemed satisfied as he went to collect his partner. Harvey had managed to stuff his trench coat with three bottles of top-shelf whiskey before Jim could usher him out of the lounge.

She had strained to catch bits and pieces of the conversation in the other room. Victor made it difficult to concentrate as he traced the tip of his gun against her cheek. This gesture seemed tame after experiencing Oswald's outburst.

She heard the uneven pacing of his footsteps as Oswald reentered the dining room. His rage had been replaced by a markedly different attitude. He appeared smug, a sly smile snuck across his face as he leaned against the table. Victor shot him a curious glance as he backed away from her chair. "Apparently-" Oswald leaned in close to her face, their noses almost touching "-some very important people in Metropolis are looking for you" Her heart sank hearing the name of the city she had left behind. The devious grin on Oswald's face only added to her despair. She knew who was looking for her, but she refused to speak his name. Her eyes betrayed this private dread, as Oswald tried to reconcile her reaction with the news.

He could sense her growing discomfort and offered a compromise - "It would be in your best interest to discuss this matter with me, upstairs" She nodded helplessly as Victor began unbinding her ties.


	3. One Night in Stockholm

**Warning:** _This chapter contains mild reference to an abusive relationship._

 **CHAPTER 3: One Night in Stockholm**

Victor hovered over her, grinning with delight. He fondled a nasty looking set of restraints, pleading with Oswald to let him 'correct' their guest. "I don't think those will be necessary tonight" Oswald's qualifier reminded her that he was in charge, and her safety depended upon his mood. She was grateful he had given her a choice and nodded obediently. "Good" he sneered, patting her hand gently - a mock civility that only humiliated her further after the failed escape. He motioned for Victor to leave the room, as he leaned in closer to her, determined to uncover her secrets.

"Now, tell me all about these...connections in Metropolis" he was always hungry for information or new people to exploit. He wanted to extend his domain as far as he could and he was curious to know what she could offer him. Her answer surprised him: "Not much to tell. It's probably my ex." her tone fell flat, she loathed having to remember. "He's a trust fund baby with too much time on his hands." Oswald was intrigued by her lack of affection in this admission. He tried to press her to continue, "He must still be sweet on you" She shot him a sharp glance and harshly responded "I guarantee he'll lose interest when he finds a new girl to beat up" She winced, remembering how he had tried to buy back her affection after she had 'accidentally' received another black eye. "I'd rather spend a night with Victor than keep talking about this" her voice was filled with bitter resentment.

It was not a love lost between them, but a hasty escape when she moved to Gotham. She was actually feeling grateful that Oswald had snatched her up, locking her away from the outside world and all of its problems. She couldn't imagine going back to her old life. If he found out where she was, she'd have to run all over again. She would rather be dragged through hell then submit to his twisted shows of affection with bruises and beat downs.

Oswald watched her features carefully as she described her tumultuous past. He had certainly killed for a sandwich, but he had never struck a woman. Even if he needed to, he couldn't possibly bring himself that low. Killing was one thing, but he despised physical abuse. Probably a remnant of his own childhood torments. He wanted to reassure her of his intentions: "Despite what you may think of me...I am a gentleman first and foremost." There was a genuine sincerity in his voice, followed by devout tenderness, "I would never let anyone hurt you." He let his finger linger on her chin, trying to console her doubts. His display of emotion had caught her off guard, only a few hours ago he had tackled her to the floor and threatened her with his knife. His intentions were difficult to read, was this real or merely an attempt at manipulating her into submission?

The stress of her failed escape commingled with news of her ex left her exhausted and desperate for answers. She turned to him, their faces inches apart, she blurted out her thoughts in desperation: "What do you want from me?" Oswald was struck by her forwardness. He clasped her hands, uncertain how to proceed. He thought it had been perfectly clear what he had wanted. From the moment he saw her walking in the street, he had been entranced. His mother had warned him about the hussies, the devil women, the desperate shrews, but she had never impressed upon him the danger of love at first sight. A trite sentiment to some, but to Oswald it was everything. It was as if his heart had been plucked out of his chest, and he had no other choice but to follow it in the hopes of someday making himself whole again.

Perhaps he had been too impatient to try and take her, forcing her to share his affections. He had designed a plan to woo her with power and money, but his attempts failed to leave a lasting impression. For the first three weeks she was in his care, he cooed to her in foreign tongues, offering the best wines he could afford to get his hands on - but still she remained discontent. He wanted to confess his devotion, but was paralyzed by the thought of rejection, despite her captive state. Oswald could exhibit saint-like patience in business, but when it came to his personal affairs, he let his desires get the best of him. He couldn't deny the details of her past, drawing parallels between his approach and the man she was currently running from.

He had made a terrible mistake.

He had pursued her in the worst possible way. Each day spent without her consent only pushed her further away from him. He faintly remembered his pet canary from private school. His stomach turned as he remembered how the caged bird would never sing for him. Even when he crushed its body in his hand, it remained defiant in its silence. The only sound it ever made was the crunching of bones under the weight of his fist. Oswald recognized his only choice.

"I-" he stammered, unwilling to let her go but forcing himself to dedicate his budding convictions out loud. "I just want you to be happy." He surrendered his juvenile fantasy of a happy romance between them. He couldn't force her to love him, and he couldn't bear to see her end up like his childhood pet. The tears started to fill his eyes but he choked them back. He wouldn't give her another reason to think any less of him. The thought of letting her go was almost too much for him to endure, but he knew that he couldn't win. His powers of persuasion only worked to destroy those around him, they failed at inspiring genuine affection.

"You are no longer my captive. You are-" he paused again, finding the words harder to utter out loud "free to leave." He swallowed hard, preparing for her hasty departure. He turned his back from her, trying to conceal his distraught expression. "I'll have Gabriel escort you home" it was his feeble attempt to make amends. He couldn't bring himself to look at her, he knew he would change his mind if he did. As he reached for the door, her voice halted him "Wait-" it wasn't a command, but a plea.

His lips trembled as he turned to face her, his stoic resolve was close to crumbling. "Yes?" he forced a polite smile that pained him more than she could ever know. She had assessed her options and leaving him now would posit a stronger risk for falling back into the hands of her ex. She hated to admit to herself that she had enjoyed her time being swept away from public life, albeit not in a cramped room above the club. She acknowledged the absurdity of her realization but it was safer to stay with Oswald.

"Do you think I could stay?" His features held a look of bewilderment, was she trying to torture him? He had released her and now after all of her determination to escape, she wanted to stay with him. "Not here, of course...but maybe at your place?" She knew it sounded insane, he would probably refuse. He had only kept her at the club as some sort of amusement. He wouldn't want to actually take her into his home. She silently rationalized the unlikeliness of him granting her request. Disbelief painted his pale features as he attempted to comprehend her motive. "Are you quite certain?" He had already resigned to let her go once, he didn't suspect he would be strong enough to go through it again. She wanted to give him a reason that would plainly justify her intent, "I would feel safer with you."

Oswald's heart overflowed, he was grateful to be given the role of protector. His thoughts raced with the possibility of winning her affections in a proper manner. He was rarely given an opportunity to be viewed as anything less than villainous.

He flicked on the lights to his apartment. As he gently guided her inside he whispered "Welcome home."


	4. Reality Check

**CHAPTER 4: Reality Check**

Every night Oswald would return home with bated breath, uncertain if she would still be waiting for him. He had started to settle into a comfortable routine with her, but he knew her presence was contingent on the Metropolis case. After a few weeks, he grew curious. He wanted to know if they were truly secure in the privacy of his apartment. Oswald rehearsed the conversation in his head before calling Gordon. He tried to inquire with an innocent tone, hoping Jim wouldn't see through his facade over the phone.

Jim spoke in brief fragments, unsure of Oswald's curious motivation. Gordon finally conceded that the case had been dropped, much to the private relief of Oswald. In a demanding tone Gordon drilled him "Why are you asking about this, did you hear something?" Oswald had anticipated Jim's determination for uncovering his interest in the case. He crafted a deceitful story about wanting to search for the girl himself, to use as leverage in a new city. Jim scoffed, unwilling to hide his disgust with his overly-friendly foe. He consoled himself out loud, acknowledging that she was far safer anywhere else than with the man who had initially filed the report.

Oswald was happy to hear Gordon confide the private details of the case with him, but hearing the description of his beloved's ex made his stomach turn. "-his record was wiped clean, more likely he just bought a new one" Jim continued "his unofficial rap sheet had more assaults listed than all your boys in the West end combined" Oswald remembered the difficulty she had when he first interrogated her about the 'connection' in Metropolis. "-a real piece of work." Jim concluded the conversation by warning Oswald to keep himself out of trouble. With a loud click, the call had ended and Oswald felt free again to happily continue his domestic bliss - certain that any threat of an outside influence had been eliminated.

The conversation had instilled a strong sense of doubt in Jim's mind. He had enough history with Oswald to recognize his calculating designs were never that superficial. Jim grabbed his coat and headed out of the station, motioning for Harvey to follow close behind.

Oswald had stepped out to issue orders to his men from the payphone down the street. When he returned upstairs to his apartment he found both the Detectives surveying his home with intense scrutiny. Jim's voice thundered down the hall, "Where-is-she?" Oswald feigned innocence as his hands struggled nervously at his side, "I have no idea what you're talking about" he offered with an all-too-knowing smile.

Harvey held up a sheer crimson dress, cruelly taunting Oswald into make a confession: "And I suppose you're the one wearing this around the house? I'm sure the boys love seeing you in this get-up." Oswald snatched the dress out of his hands, furious that Bullock would touch anything belonging to his sweet paramour. Oswald shook with an indignant fury, unable to explain the presence of the dress without incriminating himself. He decided to stall for time with a ceremonious display of vehemence. "I can assure you both-" he tried to appeal to Jim's sensibilities "-she resides here of her own accord." Harvey interjected - "Yeah, and I'm the Queen of France." Bullock's callous remark incited Oswald's outburst "YOU CAN'T TAKE HER FROM ME!" his eyes went wide with terror as he pleaded with Jim - "Please...she's all I have." Jim softened his stance but maintained a forceful tone - "She's not a piece of property, Oswald. She's not yours to keep."

"Besides-" Harvey's response cut deeper "what could a girl like that possibly see in you?" Oswald trembled pitifully, unable to discredit the Detective's remarks.

She had heard the men's voices as she climbed the stairs to the apartment. She had stepped out for groceries, and in her absence apparently all hell had broken loose. In her heart, she hoped Oswald was safe as she hurried through the door to check on him. Her eyes fell upon Oswald's shaking form, he looked as if he was going to collapse with grief. He met her gaze, but was unable to convey the swirling emotions within. Jim rushed to her side, "Miss, we'd like to talk with you for a moment." She assumed these men were enemies of Oswald, she eyed them suspiciously before snapping at them. "What exactly do you want to talk about?" Her saucy tone and curved body intrigued Harvey as he side-stepped his partner to approach her directly: "We're Detectives with GCPD, you're safe now. We're taking you home." she recoiled from his offer, defiantly stating "I am home."

Jim and Harvey exchanged a stupefied glance. "Look, you might-" Harvey searched for the words "be in shock or something." Oswald bared his teeth at the Detective in a defensive scowl. He cried out in his mind ' _Why couldn't they just leave us alone?'_ She tried to search for answers in Oswald's face, but his panicked features offered little hope. Jim's voice boomed in the apartment as he explained to her that the case had been dropped. He was making a point to humiliate Oswald for deceiving the young girl. He salted the wound by adding, "Miss, you don't need his protection anymore." Oswald's heart broke upon hearing this statement, his last bit of power crumbling in the honest words of the Detective.

She nodded slowly, letting the weight of his words sink in. Her eyes were solemn as Jim continued, "You have no idea what this man is capable of doing for his own personal gain." She gave him a knowing glance, her response was soft and somber "Yes, I do." Jim slipped his card into the palm of her hand, "Just in case." She made an appreciative gesture and pocketed the number.

Oswald could no longer endure the torture of watching this unfold in his home. He sought out control once more - "Are you gentlemen satisfied now?" his voice was close to cracking as he still struggled to choke back defensive tears. Harvey and Jim both gave her a concerned look but nodded in agreement as they made their way out. Harvey paused, giving the girl a once-over look: "If you ever want to trade up, I'd be happy to take you out in that red number" he motioned to the dress clutched in Oswald's hands. She scowled at him fiercely as they closed the door behind them.


	5. Picking Up The Pieces

The revelation left her stunned, as she summoned the strength to face Oswald. She was trying to curb her frustration with him, but it bled through her voice "What was that all about?" She thought they were done playing games. She had just started to trust him, but this encounter left her questioning her decision to stay with him. At first it had been for protection, but as time went on she started to enjoy his company. He acted so refined in public, but when she insisted they share their interests he lit up like an excited school boy. He would pull out his ornithology books, eagerly showing her his favorite species. He divulged his interest in building an aviary on the roof, and even plotted to steal some birds from the Gotham Zoo for the occasion. She reveled in his passion, it was a side of him that was charming and honest. A sharp contrast to the man who had kidnapped her just a few months ago.

He was unlike any man she had ever met. She didn't want to leave him, but she knew it was dangerous to stay with a man she couldn't trust. She needed to know why he hadn't told her about the police dropping the case. She needed him to acknowledge his blame so they could move on together and put it behind them. He couldn't be all bad, but if he lied to her tonight it would change the dynamic of their relationship forever. She would withdraw and start to her search for another place to live.

Oswald started to speak with trepidation, "You know Gotham cops...always sticking their noses where it doesn't belong." He held his breath, hoping his answer was satisfactory. "How long have you known?" she hated this back and forth, it was exhausting having to endlessly search for the truth in his responses. "W-whatever do you mean?"

"Oswald-" she looked so tired, her despondent tone was painful for him to hear "-tell me the truth." Oswald had learned it was better to be a deceptive winner than an honest loser. Nothing good ever came from being honest. Watching the exploits of his 'friend' Jim had reinforced his resolve. Still, he wanted to offer her something. Meet her halfway in the hopes of mending fences. He assumed it was his last chance of keeping her. "Jim and I go way back...I suppose he wanted to deliver the good news in person." he felt his muscles tighten as he forced out the false adjective. Good was everything it wasn't.

She looked down trying to stifle her disappointment from hearing his blatant lie. "I see." His features began to brighten but she brought him to halt by adding "Well, thank you for being _honest_." His face fell, she had indirectly challenged him but granted him the small consolation by avoiding a direct confrontation. His heart sank as new fears started rising in his mind. He had to prepare himself for her eventual departure after his less-than covert betrayal. He approached her cautiously, afraid she would slip out of sight forever with each passing step. "Are you still going to stay with me?" he sought out her hand, but thought better of it when she pulled away. She pondered the question, trying to search for any signs of deceitful manipulation. The phrasing took her by surprise. He wasn't asking about his apartment, but his companionship. She couldn't refrain from being honest despite the consequences - "For now." Her tone was cold and indifferent. She wasn't feeling very motivated to comfort him at the moment. Oswald swallowed his pain, trying to gloss over the lack of commitment in her response. He decided to hold onto the fleeting hope that he could still salvage what they shared.


	6. Stranger Than Fiction

**CHAPTER 6: STRANGER THAN FICTION**

She had settled into the spare bedroom in his apartment. Oswald gave her free reign of his humble abode, but he always kept a close eye on her. She was provided with everything inside his home, but the urge to venture out was sneaking up on her. After a careful negotiation she managed a free night with Oswald's approval. She was unaware that he had instructed one of his men to follow her every move. He would give her space, but he would not let her take advantage of this new-found freedom.

She greeted the night and immediately headed to the only other bar she felt comfortable in. The Iceberg was completely out of the question. She had spent enough time there already. It just so happened that she and Harvey Bullock frequented the same hidden hot spot. Although they were not on the best of terms, she sought out the only friendly face in the crowd. He bought her a drink, and proceeded to spend the next fifteen minutes lecturing her on Oswald's past: "-nothing but a yellow belly'd rat who'd slice your heart out if he thought he could make a buck from it." Harvey wasn't one to mince words.

"And what's my well-being worth to you, Detective?" she cut him off, afraid his seemingly endless rant would start to sober her up. Harvey took the hint. He made a non-committal shrug before downing the rest of his drink in a heavy gulp. "Maybe I'd sleep better at night knowing a pretty girl like you is safe out there." He grabbed his hat from the bar top, giving her a casual wink before adding "Take care of yourself." Harvey liked to keep his distance but he had enjoyed talking with her. She was too smart to fall for Oswald's manipulative head games, he left the bar wondering what hold the Penguin had on her.

Harvey's playful banter grew on her. She managed to sneak out to the bar every chance she could, hopeful for the Detective's return. Over the passing weeks, they developed a friendly rapport - they exchanged barbs while lamenting about their ex's. It was innocent enough, Harvey felt comfortable around her and besides, he loved to watch her dance.

"What'cha drinking tonight, Princess?" he raised his glass to greet her. She settled beside him replying: "You know I hate when you call me that... _Sweetcheeks_ " Harvey was amused with his new pet name, he couldn't resist teasing her - "How would you know?" Her face flushed pink as she nudged his shoulder. "Would you care to see if your _ass_ essment is correct?" He waited for her to groan at his pun, but she burst into a fit of giggles, infatuated with the seasoned Detective's sense of humor. Harvey beamed inside, she was laughing at his terrible jokes before she had received her first drink.

They had settled into a comfortable schedule. They would talk for a couple hours, and when the music suited her, she would get up and dance - never taking her eyes from his seat. She had tried to get him to join her but with little success. Harvey usually complained of an 'aching something or other' to save face with the young girl. He couldn't imagine what they would look like together out there; she was so vivacious and spirited. It would be foolish of him to think of her as anything other than a friend. He needed those more than another one-night stand under his belt. Besides, he was sure she treated him no differently than any other guy on the street.

She was tugging at his arm, begging him to join her. Harvey wanted to keep his distance. He thought he could trust her, but anyone associated with the Penguin immediately put him on guard. "Pleeeeeease?" She pouted her lower lip, trying to appeal to his softer side. He was ready to cave - "Two more shots, Lloyd." If he was going to look foolish, at least he could blame the booze. "Let's do this," he grunted, offering an obliging smile. She quickly grabbed his hand, pulling him eagerly to the center of the crowd.

He made it a point to keep his distance from her grinding hips, choosing instead to let her lead. He didn't want to overstep his bounds. She was shocked he could keep up; he was rolling his shoulders in time with the song, letting his lower half mimic her own moves. He had a confident swagger on the dance floor, she had chided herself for not dancing with him sooner. "Not bad, Harv." She smiled wide as he interlocked his fingers with her own. His touch was electric, causing her to blurt out "-charming bastard" under her breath. Harvey pulled her close, whispering in her ear - "I've been called worse" as he guided her into a short dip on the dance floor.

His confidence was swelling, or perhaps his seventh shot was finally kicking in. She leaned into his chest, taking him by surprise. He closed his arms around her, narrowing the gap between them. Her body slid against him, their pace increasing with each beat. She lifted her head to catch a glimpse of him staring back at her with amorous intent. Their faces drifted closer, pausing just shy of contact as the song drew to a close.

On the other side of the bar, a man was reaching for his phone - "Boss...we might have a problem. You better get down here."


	7. An Unexpected Turn

**CHAPTER 7: An Unexpected Turn**

The inebriated pair stumbled out of the bar, each trying to outboast the other in hopes of playing down the sexual tension. Their jovial mood dropped as soon as they him, Oswald was leaning on his cane - glaring at the duo with disgust.

"Going somewhere?" He pursed his lips together, a signature of his waning patience. This girl was becoming more trouble than he was willing to contend with. Harvey rolled his eyes, unwilling to give Oswald's threatening demeanor any acknowledgment. She tried to diffuse the situation - "Oswald, is this really necessary?" Harvey heard guns cock behind them, he knew Oswald wasn't going to let her go. His obsessive grip on the young girl kicked Harvey's knight complex into overdrive, but he knew he couldn't maneuver out of the situation with force.

Oswald's gaze intensified as he replied "As long as I allow you to live under my roof, you will abide by my rules." Her back straightened as she gave him a look of contempt. Harvey knew what was coming; he had a penchant for saying the wrong thing to women, but he found it almost enjoyable to experience the scenario from a spectator's view. " _Allow_?" she enunciated each syllable in an attempt to give Oswald an opportunity to correct himself.

He was perplexed by her response, having anticipated a quick submission to his will. He struggled to regain authority over the situation, choosing to dismiss her question. "I demand that you come home at once" his definitive tone sent her over the edge. Harvey couldn't help letting out a pained groan - Oswald had just hammered the final nail in his own coffin. It was easier to take a bullet than suffer the sharp tongue lashing of a scorned woman. "DEMAND?!" she erupted much to Oswald's surprise "How dare you try to pull this shit with me again?" Harvey pondered on her charge of a repeat offense, but was resolved to stay out of the explosive exchange. Oswald faltered in his confidence, he was starting to lose face in front of his men who were sharing amused glances at the girl's bold rebellion.

"I-" Oswald was at his wit's end, he was desperately searching for a way to crush her spirit. "I'll kill you" it came out as more of a question than an actual threat. The last few months had tested her patience, she was growing indifferent to Oswald's attempt to control her. If he wanted her dead, he would have done it a long time ago. She shrugged at the peril, she had nothing left to lose - "So what?" Oswald swallowed hard, blinking at her in disbelief. "I'll kill him!" he motioned at Harvey, frantically expending his arsenal of intimidation tactics. Harvey didn't flinch, but mirrored the girl's apathetic tone - "So what?" Harvey could feel the atmosphere shift in their favor as he heard Oswald's men snicker under their breath. He wondered if she had planned this all along, or if she was merely fed up with Oswald's childish antics.

In that moment she had finally realized that a civil relationship with Oswald would be impossible. He would always try to extend a domineering force over her, never satisfied until he got exactly what he wanted. He was unwilling to compromise, and she knew it was a moot point. There was nothing more to say. Her heels clicked with defiance as she stormed off, leaving the men behind. Oswald felt paralyzed as he watched the last reigns of control slip from his grasp.

It had been painfully uncomfortable to watch the exchange, but Harvey was impressed with her bold courage. He knew she could handle herself, but shuddered to imagine what it felt like to experience the full force of her wrath. Oswald stared at the ground, dumbstruck by the turn of events. Harvey added insult to injury with his brusque ridicule: "Nice...you have a real way with women." Oswald knew he couldn't harm the Detective without suffering severe repercussions from Jim. His blood boiled to a feverish pitch as he watched Harvey saunter down the street unscathed.

Oswald pulled one of his men aside. He shook his head, heaving a forlorn sigh: "Well...that certainly was unexpected." His henchman readily agreed, adding with a harsh laugh - "Women, right?" Oswald leaned in closer, his sudden calm putting the other two guards on edge. His lips curled, showing his teeth, a sardonic smile stretching his features in a malicious display: "Women!" he shrugged his shoulders as he reached for his pen knife.

His anger would not subside until he had finished gouging out the young man's eyes.


	8. UNFINISHED - WIP

**NOTE:** _This chapter is unfinished. I have posted everything I have written to this point. I plan to finish this chapter and add an epilogue in the near future. Thank you for your understanding and patience._

 **CHAPTER 8:**

The water rained down, offering a reprieve from her racing thoughts. She consoled herself, inhaling the steam from the shower. She wondered if he had actually meant to harm her. The embarrassing exchange in front his men would not go unpunished. Perhaps this was his breaking point, she had accepted her fate - aware that she had become more of a burden in his home than he would ever care to admit. She couldn't imagine an outcome for them that wouldn't end in heartache or bloodshed.

Oswald had heard the shower when he returned home. He decided to rinse the blood from his hands in the kitchen sink, praying she wouldn't finish before he had time to clean up. He was empty inside. The more he tried to force the relationship, the quicker she seemed to slip away from him. With a heavy sigh he made his way to the bedroom, reliving himself of his suit jacket and dress shirt. He was still pondering how he was going to settle this affair. He paused in his state of undress as he heard the shower shut off.

She dried her skin and slipped on his dress shirt from yesterday. Oswald had insisted upon purchasing her a new wardrobe but she dismissed his kind offer. Choosing instead to wear his button down apparel around the apartment. She secretly loved the way his tight fitting shirts hugged her curves. They were just short enough to barely cover her sex. They made her feel close to him, and she loved breathing in his scent. She emerged from the bathroom to find Oswald sitting on the bed, his head buried in his hands.

His casual attire pleasantly surprised her. He had stripped down to a white tank top that he used as an undershirt. His suspenders hung at the sides of his dress pants which were only half buttoned. She cautiously approached him, knowing his calm repose could give way to unbridled rage at any moment.

Hearing her soft steps caused him to straighten up on the bed. He saw her standing in the doorway, clutching the sleeves of his purple dress shirt from the night before. He used to feel honored at seeing her in his clothes. He remembered picking out his attire for the day based upon what he wanted to see her wear that night. When she disrobed in the morning for her shower, he would hold the shirt close to his face, enjoying their shared essence still emanating from the fabric.

His eyes betrayed none of these passing thoughts. His gaze lacked any sign of emotion. His once warm glance had faded, the blue fire in his eyes was starting to burn out. He had finally decided.

"I want you to leave in the morning." his tone was absent of any feeling. His desires had faded into the abyss of broken dreams. He was only trying to save himself at this point. The command left her breathless. She had anticipated a retaliation from him, but she never would have expected him to exile her from his life. She tried to search his face for any signs of an appeal. His cold stoicism separated them like a wall. "I want to be clear-" she thought he was giving her an opportunity but his words cut deep "-I want you to disappear. If I see your face on the street or hear your voice in a crowd...I will not hesitate to kill you." His detached tone reinforced the seriousness of his threat. He was giving her an out. One last chance to leave before his temper consumed the last of his sympathies for her.

"If there is anything you require you should ask for it now. I will provide you with a small sum of money and a car, if you so desire." He wanted to be rid of her for good. In his world, money could solve almost any problem. But he wanted to be sure, "Is there anything else you need from me?" He sounded tired, absolutely drained from his failed attempt at fostering a relationship with her. At least he could take solace in pushing her away. If he couldn't win, he would at least have the final say in how it ended.

She understood the difficulties she had put him through, they had both done so much damage to one another. She tried to appreciate his gesture, understanding that he could only endure so much before he finally snapped. He wasn't trying to bribe her with the cash; it was his final show of affection, an assurance that he wanted her to be well taken care of outside of his presence. She felt safer to approach him, his shoulders had slumped once more as she took a seat next to him on the bed.

"There is something I want" her voice was small but direct. Oswald felt exacerbated, he wanted to tie up his loose ends and go to bed, putting her out of his mind once and for all. "Anything." he replied.

Her heart was pounding, unsure of his reaction to her request. Her voice trembled but she managed to state in a hushed whisper, "I want a kiss."

Oswald turned to face her in shock, he was certain he had misheard her. "What?" She placed a hand upon his own, and repeated her request. Oswald had already divorced himself of those feelings for her. Besides he had kissed her before, gentle pecks on the forehead, or swift presses of his lips against her cheek. He was unsure of what exactly she was asking for. She saw the confusion in his face, and sought to make her intentions clear.

She leaned toward him, watching his eyes slowly light up once more. Her lips softly met his, a quiet intensity coursing through them both. It was their first real kiss, brief but powerful. Oswald struggled inside, fighting against letting those feelings for her return. It was over. It had to be. It was for the best. He would not give her the satisfaction of seeing him yield to this last attempt. He cleared his throat trying to dissuade her from continuing with this tortuous appeal - "Anything else?"

The kiss had unleashed feelings of her own. Underneath all the fighting and control, she genuinely cared for him. With staggered breath she pleaded "Another" If this was going to be their last night together, she wanted to remember it fondly.

Oswald had just barely contained himself from the first kiss, he didn't think he could survive another. 'Why is she doing this to me?' he chided himself for allowing her such close proximity to his heart. She was teasing him now, nothing more. He thought about strangling her for this cruel joke, but he found himself leaning in to grant her request once more. If he was going to suffer, then he could try to enjoy letting the pain linger on his lips.

This time when their lips met, she didn't pull back. His defenses were failing, this was all he had ever dreamed of - how could he resist her now. She opened herself up to him, submitting to his voracious kiss. They devoured one another, their rhythm of passion punctuated by short gasps before diving back into the kiss. She wrapped her hands behind his neck, letting her fingers twist through his uneven locks. She rolled back onto the bed, gently pulling him down on top of her. He followed her lead, unwilling to part with her kiss.

She reached for his tank top, running her hands smoothly up his sides, silently encouraging him to take it off. He obliged, pressing his bare chest against her. He couldn't discern if this was real or a fantasy, at the moment he didn't care. She desired him, and that was enough. He could feel her arousal soaking through his trousers, and he paused to admire her display. "Are you sure?" his insecurities flared up, he was still reeling from the shock of their shared passion. She reached out to him, the intensity of her eyes beckoning to him, "Oswald-" his name never sounded sweeter than falling from her lips "I want you." His eyes began to weep with silent tears of gratitude, he did not strain to conceal this from her. They both embraced the vulnerability, collapsing into one another forming a new whole. She was his, if only for tonight. He could make this moment last; with her, he was invincible, a master of Fate and conqueror of flesh. She whispers his name over and over, a silent prayer repeating his praise, an appeal for his touch - he grants her this request as well.

Oswald removed his last burden of clothing, waiting for her approval before proceeding. She reached out to him, giving him a firm squeeze. Her satisfied moan caused him to throb in her hand. He was inexperienced, but let his instincts take over as he dove upon her, stealing her breath away with his kisses. She let her hands travel from his shoulders and down his back, rolling her palms over his hips with deliberate care. Her hands made silent promises as she drew them back up from his waist to his chest. Her graceful touch inflamed his senses, and inspired his own exploration of her yielding form.


End file.
